


A Musketeers Carol

by Snow_Glory



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: A Christmas Carol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aramis never gets naked sadly, Charles Dickens - Freeform, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Naked Porthos, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, i don't even know what i've done..., reciting lines, tiny tim isnt a person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 09:42:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5370632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snow_Glory/pseuds/Snow_Glory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys are supposed to be reciting lines for Constance's play, A Christmas Carol, and they do... sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Musketeers Carol

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CanadianGarrison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanadianGarrison/gifts), [Vera_dAuriac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_dAuriac/gifts).



> All credit for the bolded lines goes to Charles Dickens and his story A Christmas Carol. I own absolutely nothing.
> 
> I don't even know what this is or how it came to be. What I do know is that writing porn is harder than one might think, so I must give all props to those amazing authors that write this stuff on a regular basis. You are all my heroes, hands down.
> 
> I am content in this being my first and last time writing this haha... I shall go back to my whumping of Aramis after this.

 

 

  
  


“ _ **Marley was dead, to begin with ... This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate--”**_

  
  


“Aramis, stop talking and come here.” Athos growled. He grabbed the man currently practicing his narration for the play _The Christmas Carol_ that Constance was directing. Aramis was also playing the ghost of Christmas Past. He and Athos, who was playing Scrooge, were supposed to be practicing their lines. 

“You said you wanted to play this role. I was just getting you into the mood.” Aramis replied, running a line of gentle kisses up the side of Athos’ neck. He was swatted away a moment later, but not before a tiny moan made its way past Athos’ lips. Aramis grinned and lunged forward again, succeeding in pushing past any last defences Athos may have had. They both ended up in a crumpled heap, thankfully on top of what was supposed to be Scrooge’s bed.

“I didn’t mean come here and role play, I meant come here and practice your scenes.” Athos responded, slightly muffled by the man above him, who was currently grasping and groping anywhere his hands could find purchase.

  
  


_**"What!" exclaimed the Ghost, "Would you so soon put out, with worldly hands, the light I give? Is it not enough that you are one of those whose passions made this cap, and force me through whole trains of years to wear it low upon my brow!"** _

  
  


“I am practicing. I am showing Scrooge what his past would have looked like, had he simply opened himself up to love earlier in his life.” Buttons flew open as Aramis tore at Athos’ shirt biting a trail down his stomach to where his shirt met his pants. 

“Aramis! Constance is going to murder you if she catches us. I of course will blame it entirely on you.”

“Mmmmm, you taste delicious just. Right. Here.” Aramis accentuated each word with another small nibble of Athos’ waistline.

“Aramis!”

“For someone who clearly doesn’t want to be discovered, you are doing a horrible job of making me stop. Plus Constance is busy with d’Artagnan. He’s obsessed over Tiny Tim again.”

The youngest of their quartet had taken to naming his penis ‘Tiny Tim’, thinking he was being all secretive, so that Constance wouldn’t find out she was the stuff his dreams were made of. And honestly, if he’d stop being such an idiot he’d already have realized that she had heart shaped eyes for him.

Athos’ hands wound their way into Aramis’ curls and he tugged hard, pulling the man closer, earning a soft whimper from his ghost. “Tiny Tim… Oh God! Right there Aramis… The things you do to me. He’s still calling it Tiny Tim?”

Aramis hummed his confirmation, his fingers unlacing the trousers ‘Scrooge’ was wearing. He pulled them down slightly, just enough to release Athos’ cock, which unsurprisingly was full and hard. Athos lifted his hips slightly so that Aramis could pull his trousers down more and sighed in contentment a moment later when Aramis slid his lips over the head, his tongue teasing the tip. He glanced upwards, smiling around the cock in his mouth, as Athos gripped the bed sheets and arched slightly, trying to push all of himself into Aramis’ mouth.

“Constance says it’s anything but tiny,” Athos commented.

Aramis snorted and lifted himself off of Athos, leaning back and settling on his knees in between Athos’ legs, “You choose now to ask about d’Artagnan? I don’t know why that kid chooses to call his dick Tiny Tim. He’s young.”

“You aren’t that much older than he is Aramis.”

Aramis sighed as though he had suffered long in life. “Shut up Athos.” He bent forward and placed his hands on either side of Athos’ head and met his lips in a crushing kiss.

 

“ _ **Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead," said Scrooge. "But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change.”**_

 

“Constance won’t care, Athos.” Aramis responded.

“Eh! What is going on here?” A rather deep voice exclaimed from the darkness. Porthos strode forward and grasped at Aramis’ waist pulling him completely off of Athos. He glared down at ‘Scrooge,’ while holding the squirming Ghost of Christmas Past under one arm.

  
  


“ _ **Come in, -- come in! and know me better, man! I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. Look upon me! You have never seen the like of me before!”**_

“ _ **Scrooge reverently did so. It was clothed in one simple green robe, or mantle, bordered with white fur. The garment hung so loosely on the figure, that is capacious breast was bare, as if disdaining to be warded or concealed by any artifice. It’s dark brown curls were long and free; free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanour and its joyful air.”**_ **Aramis continued his narration, dangling from Porthos’ arms.**

_**The Ghost of Christmas Present rose.** _

_**`Spirit,' said Scrooge submissively,' conduct me where you will. I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learnt a lesson which is working now. To-night, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it.'** _

_**`Touch my robe.'** _

_**Scrooge did as he was told, and held it fast.** _

 

“What are you two doing? And without me? I am hurt, my brothers.” Porthos set Aramis down and gripped the back of his neck tightly, his thumb rubbing rather forcefully up and down the side of his neck. Athos was still laying on the bed, pants pulled down just above his knees, shirt torn open and hair in disarray. He had propped himself up on his elbows and stared wide eyed at Porthos.

“We could rectify this situation dear Porthos.” Aramis smirked, he slid behind the Spirit of Christmas Present and reached around, undoing the sash holding the fluffy green robe. It slid open to reveal a very ‘unclothed’ Porthos underneath. “Oh Porthos, you… always anticipate Athos’ and my needs!”

  
  


_**During the whole of this time, Scrooge had acted like a man out of his wits. His heart and soul were in the scene, and with his former self. He corroborated everything, remembered everything, enjoyed everything, and underwent the strangest agitation. It was not until now, when the bright faces of his former self were turned from them, that he remembered the Ghost, and became conscious that it was looking full upon him, while the light upon its head burnt very clear.** _

_**"A small matter," said the Ghost, "to make these silly folks so full of gratitude."** _

_**"Small!" echoed Scrooge.** _

_**"Why! Is it not! He has spent but a few pounds of your mortal money: three or four perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves this praise?"** _

_**"It isn't that," said Scrooge, heated by the remark, and speaking unconsciously like his former, not his latter, self.** _

_**He felt the Spirit's glance, and stopped.** _

 

Porthos growled and moved towards Athos, pinning him back down on the bed. Aramis trailed behind, stumbling slightly, his hands still wrapped around Porthos’ waist. 

“Porthos!” Athos exclaimed, trying to hold in the squeak to his voice as Porthos ran a trail down his torso with his nails. The bed dipped, as Aramis laid himself down beside Athos, and nestled his face into his neck.

“I love when you speak dirty to me.” Porthos said, voice rumbling deeply. He was tracing the same path Aramis had taken only a few moments ago, nibbling as he moved further down Athos’ torso.

“You smell good here too.” Aramis said between the deep breaths he was taking in Athos’s neck. His hand came out from being squashed between their bodies and wrapped itself around the other side of Athos’ head, pulling him closer. Athos’ squeak made itself known a moment later when Aramis bit his earlobe and began sucking hard.

Porthos chuckled and laid his robe over Athos’ entire body, shielding him from whomever may wander backstage and repositioned himself trapping Athos underneath and between his legs.

“Now,” Porthos began. 

 

_**"Is there a peculiar flavour in what you sprinkle from your torch?" asked Scrooge.** _

_**"There is. My own."** _

_**"Would it apply to any kind of dinner on this day?" asked Scrooge.** _

_**"To any kindly given. To a poor one most."** _

_**"Why to a poor one most?" asked Scrooge.** _

_**"Because it needs it most."** _

_**"Spirit," said Scrooge, after a moment's thought, "I wonder you, of all the beings in the many worlds about us, should desire to cramp these people's opportunities of innocent enjoyment."** _

_**"I!" cried the Spirit.** _

_**"You would deprive them of their means of dining every seventh day, often the only day on which they can be said to dine at all," said Scrooge. "Wouldn't you?"** _

_**"I!" cried the Spirit.** _

_**"You seek to close these places on the Seventh Day," said Scrooge. "And it comes to the same thing."** _

_**"I seek!" exclaimed the Spirit.** _

_**"Forgive me if I am wrong. It has been done in your name, or at least in that of your family," said Scrooge.** _

_**"There are some upon this earth of yours," returned the Spirit, "who lay claim to know us, and who do their deeds of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name, who are as strange to us and all our kith and kin, as if they had never lived. Remember that, and charge their doings on themselves, not us."** _

 

“You two are just magnificent when you quote your lines.” Aramis said breathlessly. While Athos and Porthos had been rehearsing their lines, Aramis had been rehearsing Athos’ earlobes, alternating between sucking hard and blowing gently on the reddened skin. “I shall never look at this play in the same way ever again. Such innuendos.” 

 

_**"Spirit," said Scrooge, with an interest he had never felt before, "tell me if Tiny Tim will live."** _

 

Aramis snorted right into Athos’ ear.

“Aramis!” Athos cried out, batting the man's face away from the side of his head.

“What! You were the one that mentioned Tiny Tim!”

“Someone needs to have a chat with d’Artagnan,” Porthos responded. He had moved lower and was biting the inside of Athos’ thighs. The man arched slightly at a sharper nibble just under Athos’s balls.

“Would you two just stop it. Enough!” He pushed Aramis off the side of the bed, grinning when the man yelped upon hitting the wooden stage floor. Porthos stopped and sat back on his knees, looking a little perturbed at Athos’s outburst.

“We are supposed to be rehearsing lines, not turning _A Christmas Carol_ into a smutty play!” Athos wriggled out from under Porthos and stood up, refastening his trousers and pulling his shirt down.

Porthos stayed in his spot, but pulled the robe close with a sigh.

 

“ _ **And now, without a word of warning from the Ghost, they stood upon a bleak and desert moor, where monstrous masses of rude stone were cast about, as though it were the burial-place of giants; and water spread itself wheresoever it listed -- or would have done so, but for the frost that held it prisoner; and nothing grew but moss and furze, and coarse rank grass. Down in the west the setting sun had left a streak of fiery red, which glared upon the desolation for an instant, like a sullen eye, and frowning lower, lower, lower yet, was lost in the thick gloom of darkest night.”**_

  
Athos looked sharply at Aramis, who was still laying on the ground, looking decidedly hurt as he narrated a line from the play. The words were spoken angrily and swiftly.

“Oh Aramis--” He began.

“Nope. That's perfectly fine, Athos. Message received well and clear.” Aramis picked himself up off the floor and straightened his clothing. His face was dark and annoyed contrasting sharply with the almost glowing white robe he was forced to wear as the childlike ghost of Christmas Past. 

Athos reached for Aramis, surprised when the man spun around and wandered on stage calling out for Constance and d'Artagnan.

 

_**"Spirit," said Scrooge, shuddering from head to foot. "I see, I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way, now. Merciful Heaven, what is this?"** _

 

Porthos rolled off the bed and stood beside Athos, watching after Aramis’ disappearing form, “Yes, that unhappy man is all your doing. You know he'd never go so far as to ruin one of Constance’s plays, let alone tarnish your role by demeaning the importance. We were practicing our lines… there are no rules against how we practice said lines. Make this better Athos.”

And he too strode from the room.

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


“ _ **No space of regret can make amends for one life's opportunity misused”**_

“ _ **External heat and cold had little influence on Scrooge. No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn't know where to have him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often "came down" handsomely and Scrooge never did.”**_

 

***growl***

“Such an aggravating man!”

Porthos had followed Aramis out onto the main stage, only to find Constance and d’Artagnan going over their lines. The two were mere centimetres apart and Porthos smirked knowingly as they glanced up to look at him. Both looked a tad sheepish at being caught and he had a good feeling that Tiny Tim was going to be taken care of as soon as possible. Constance tilted her head slightly indicating which direction might be the way their ghost of Christmas Past had vanished.

Porthos had quickly made his way backstage and down the various hallways that lined the theatre. Sure enough Constance was correct. Porthos had found Aramis pacing back and forth amongst the costumes for the play, practicing all of the lines that sounded ‘mean.’ For a lack of a better word.

 

“ _ **Bah Humbug”**_

 

“Oh Aramis,” Porthos sighed He strode forward and pulled his friend into his rather large embrace. “You know he didn’t mean it the way it happened. Athos hates fighting almost as much as you.”

Aramis melted into the hug, he wasn’t nearly as tall as Porthos, but he could at least nuzzle his face into the larger man’s neck comfortably.

 

“ _ **Darkness was cheap, and Scrooge liked it.”**_

 

“Oh come off of it already, stop acting like a child.” Porthos responded, grinning. He pulled his hands apart from Aramis’ back and ran his fingers down until he reached the round meaty part of his arse. 

Aramis stopped quoting random lines for a moment and looked up sharply at Porthos as the man grasped his ass firmly eliciting a sharp yelp from him. He wriggled out of Porthos’ grip and backed up to take in the full sight of the taller man.

 

_**"Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask," said Scrooge, looking intently at the Spirit's robe, "but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw?"** _

_**"It might be a claw, for the flesh there is upon it," was the Spirit's reply. "Look here."** _

 

Porthos undid the ties on his robe for the second time that night, revealing his continuing state of undress. “You are quoting Athos’ lines now, I see?”

Aramis smiled softly and immediately went to his knees, settling himself just beneath Porthos’ erect cock.

“Someone has to since he doesn’t seem to want to.” Aramis gripped Porthos’ ankles and then ran his hands up the insides of his legs, stopping just above the knees. He bent slightly, angling his head upwards, and ran his tongue up the underside of Porthos’ dick. The soft groan Porthos made was enough to encourage Aramis to continue. He knelt up slightly and slipped the head of Porthos’ cock into his mouth, giving it a gentle suck.

Porthos pushed his hips forward, whimpering and then ran his hands through Aramis’ hair. He fisted his hands in Aramis’ curls and yanked his head completely onto his dick, which elicited the softest moan from the man. Aramis liked his hair pulled and caressed.

Porthos adjusted his stance so that he wouldn’t fall over and looked down with reverence at the man kneeling at his feet. He loved Athos and Aramis more than he could properly explain, should anyone ask. Each came with so many wondrous qualities and at the same time numerous downfalls. Athos was the newest to their trio and as such harboured many insecurities. Porthos knew Athos despised when Aramis tried to force him beyond the carefully constructed wall he’d crafted.

“Is this making you feel calmer?” Porthos asked. 

  
  


“ _ **I am sorry for him; I couldn't be angry with him if I tried. Who suffers by his ill whims? Himself always. Here he takes it into his head to dislike us, and he won't come and dine with us. What's the consequence? He don't lose much of a dinner."**_

_**"Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner."** _

  
  


Aramis opened his eyes and looked upwards, taking Porthos’ cock back into his mouth, swallowing him completely. He resumed then, slowly moving up and down the shaft, his one hand moving from Porthos’ knee and fondling the man’s balls instead. He continued licking and sucking and stroking until Porthos’ legs were shaking. The larger man was having a hard time remaining standing.

“Lay down, Porthos.” Aramis instructed. He stood up and pulled the robe off Porthos’ shoulders and laid it down on the floor, just behind a rack of costumes. Once Porthos was settled, Aramis laid down beside him, grabbing his cock in hand and began pumping. Aramis threw his leg over Porthos’ and rubbed his own cock against the outside of his thigh and then gently turned Porthos’ face towards his and met his lips in a fierce kiss.

It took mere moments after that for Porthos to reach his climax, and he came with a shout that was immediately swallowed by Aramis’ mouth still upon his. They lay on the floor for a few more moments sharing lazy kisses and soft caresses, before Aramis disentangled himself from Porthos and stood up. He cleaned Porthos up with a small handkerchief that had appeared out of nowhere and pulled the man up, tossing his robe onto his shoulders. Porthos wrapped the ties back around his waist, closing the robe and pulled Aramis once more into his arms.

“Thank you.” He breathed into Aramis curls. “Do you need me to take care of you now?”

Aramis shook his head and frowned, “No, I need to find Athos.”

 

_**"Mr Scrooge?"** _

_**"Yes," said Scrooge.  "That is my name, and I fear it may not be pleasant to you.  Allow me to ask your pardon.  And will you have the goodness" -- here Scrooge whispered in his ear.** _

 

Unnoticed Athos had sidled into the room and bracketed himself up against Aramis as he was still in Porthos’ embrace.

 

_**"Lord bless me!" cried the gentleman, as if his breath were taken away.  "My dear Mr Scrooge, are you serious?"** _

_**"If you please," said Scrooge.  "Not a farthing less.  A great many back-payments are included in it, I assure you.  Will you do me that favour?"** _

 

He whispered into Aramis’ ear, loud enough for Porthos to hear, but no one outside of the trio. “Forgive me, please.”

Aramis spun around in Porthos arms and reached forward to slip into Athos’ waiting arms.

 

_**He was so fluttered and so glowing with his good intentions, that his broken voice would scarcely answer to his call.  He had been sobbing violently in his conflict with the Spirit, and his face was wet with tears.** _

_**"They are not torn down!" cried Scrooge, folding one of his bed-curtains in his arms, "they are not torn down, rings and all.  They are here -- I am here -- the shadows of the things that would have been, may be dispelled.  They will be!  I know they will."** _

“ _ **I have always thought of Christmastime, when it has come round...as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys.”**_

 

“Oh Athos… I couldn’t not forgive you. You are one-thirds of us, you complete us. You worry too much about what people think, instead of enjoying the moment. You know I wouldn’t jeopardize this. I also meant what I said before, Constance won’t care. She and d’Artagnan were all over each other earlier; I’ve no doubt we won’t be bothered by her for the remainder of the evening.”

Athos smiled shyly, breathing in deeply, relishing the man in his arms. “Did I hurt you when I threw you off the bed?”

“Mmmmm no, but I would have some recompense now, yes?”

 

“ _ **He has the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome; a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks; in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to add and count 'em up: what then? The happiness he gives, is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.”**_

 

Aramis blushed at Athos’ words to Porthos.

 

_**"I don't know what to do!" cried Scrooge, laughing and crying in the same breath; and making a perfect Laocoon of himself with his stockings.  "I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a schoolboy.  I am as giddy as a drunken man.  A merry Christmas to everybody!  A happy New Year to all the world!  Hallo here!  Whoop!  Hallo!"** _

 

They laughed and pulled apart from one another, standing as they wiped away any tears that had managed to form.

 

“ _ **Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail.”**_

 

“Aramis! Come here!”

Porthos shook his head in amusement. Here we go again, he thought, as Aramis moved quickly forward and grasped Athos face, claiming his lips in a passionate kiss.

 

_**His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him.** _

_**May that be truly said of us, and all of us!  And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God Bless Us, Every One!** _

 

“Shut up Aramis!” Athos and Porthos chorused in unison.

  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  


 

 

 


End file.
